The Eastern Door
by ElouiseBates
Summary: In the first year of his reign, Caspian X is determined to bring Narnia back to the way Aslan intended it. Where to begin? The young king has one idea ...
1. Chapter 1

Caspian X, King of Narnia, was bored. He had spent the last month hammering out an agreement between the Humans who lives in the town of Beruna and the River god. The Humans wanted to rebuild the bridge so they could cross the river easily (the idea of actually walking _through_ a river inhabited by a god did not, oddly enough, appeal to them), while the River god utterly refused to subject himself to such an indignity.

"Aslan freed me from my chains," he said. "I will not voluntarily go back to slavery."

Finally, Caspian found a dwarf who was fairly comfortable on the water and persuaded him to act as ferryman (or ferry-dwarf, rather) so the Humans could cross without getting wet. The River god agreed that a boat was acceptable, and the Humans, though reluctant, saw that they had no other real option, and agreed.

_Then_ Caspian had to work out a system of payment, since Briekan (the dwarf) would not work for Humans for free, and many of Beruna's inhabitants were quite poor … in the end, Caspian agreed to pay Briekan a monthly sum from the King's Own Treasury, and matters were settled accordingly.

"I know all this is important," Caspian said to Dr. Cornelius, his old tutor and current mentor and counsellor. "But it's dreadfully dull. And it seems like all I've been doing for a year is settling differences between Old Narnians and New. When the Telmarines agreed to stay, I didn't think they would be so _contentious_ about everything."

"It is not just the Telmarines, my dear king," Dr. Cornelius advised. "Many of the Old Narnians see this as their chance to take revenge for years of abuse by the Telmarines."

Caspian sighed. "You'd think that Aslan's blessing on us all, at my coronation ceremony, would have been enough to bring everyone together."

The wise old half-dwarf smiled. "Things are rarely that simple, my lord king."

"I know," Caspian admitted. "I just wish, if it had to be so complicated, that it could be more interesting as well."

"Fighting Miraz was interesting enough, but you would not want to endure that again, would you?"

"No." Caspian looked almost wistful, though, at the mention of that time. "At least we had the Kings and Queens of old here then," he couldn't help but add. "I don't think anyone would argue with King Peter the way Briekan did with me."

Dr. Cornelius regarded his king—who was, after all, still a rather young boy, for all that he was a battle-hardened warrior and Aslan's chosen King—and made a decision.

"What you need, Sire," he said firmly, "is a holiday."

Caspian looked confused. "Christmas isn't for another six months," he said.

The good doctor looked impatient. "Not that kind of holiday, a personal holiday! A chance for you to take a break from affairs of state and just be a boy again."

It sounded marvellous to Caspian, but he still hesitated. "May I? Do you think Aslan would approve? I mean—it seems rather irresponsible. There is still so much work to be done, after all."

"My dear boy—" occasionally the doctor forgot he was speaking to the king of Narnia and addressed him as a fond tutor to his prize pupil again— "Narnia will not fall apart if you are absent for a few days. Trumpkin, Trufflehunter and I can see to things very well while you are gone."

Caspian's eyes began to sparkle. "Really? Do you really think I should?"

"_Yes_," Dr. Cornelius said firmly.

"Then I shall leave directly!" Caspian grinned boyishly. "I know just what I want to do, too. Do you realize, Doctor, that I've never even seen all of my kingdom? I've never been further east than Beruna, and I've yet to see Lantern Waste or the Western Wilds, and I hear there are giants on our northern border …"

"If you plan a tour of the kingdom, Sire, you might need longer than a few days," Dr. Cornelius advised. "And you might want to make it a state affair."

Caspian waved a hand airily. "Not a real tour, Doctor. I'll get to that someday. Right now I just want to visit one place."

"And where is that?"

"That," Caspian said mysteriously, "Is my secret."

* * *

It wasn't quite as simple as that, of course. The King of Narnia could not simply vanish for even one day, much less several, without telling anyone where he was going. Nor could he go completely alone—there were still some Narnians, both Old and New, who might be all too happy to see the king disappear for good, even to the point of taking an active hand in the matter. Though Caspian protested having a guard accompany him, Trumpkin and Dr. Cornelius eventually convinced him to take at least one or two others with him, and to leave instructions as to where he could be found, should an emergency occur and they need him back at the castle.

"You can leave it in a sealed envelope, if you like," Trumpkin said with good-natured impatience. He couldn't understand the boyish whim to have a real secret escapade, but his love for the king was strong enough for him to indulge what he could not comprehend. "We will promise to only open it if something dire happens, or you don't return when you are supposed to."

Caspian knew the dwarf was laughing at him—just a little—but he didn't particularly care. He had never been allowed to do anything reckless, not as prince nor as king. This was his chance to have a grand adventure (one that did not involve battles and armies and killing things) and he wasn't going to let anything spoil it.

"I'll do that, thanks," he said, scribbling busily away on a piece of parchment. He folded it and sealed it with his signet ring and a dollop of wax, and handed it to Dr. Cornelius. "There. Only to be opened under extreme circumstances."

The doctor tucked it away into his robes. "What about guards, my lord?"

"I've thought about that," Caspian said with satisfaction. "I thought to take a couple of the Talking Dogs—Bright Eyes and her pup, oh what's-his-name."

Trumpkin snorted deeply and loudly. "If you mean young Snippet, he'll be more trouble than he's worth, Sire."

"Snippet!" Caspian said. "That's the one. Yes, I know he's untrained and—er—excitable, but Bright Eyes wants him to learn from experience, so I thought this would be a good chance."

"Whom else?" Dr. Cornelius said, seeing that Trumpkin still looked doubtful.

"Drinian of the Eastern Shore."

"Trees and Trinkets! If he is of the Eastern Shore, how is he going to do us any good here?" demanded Trumpkin.

"He's here _now_," Caspian explained patiently. "He and his brothers and sister left the Eastern Shore to accept Aslan's offer to stay in Narnia, and Drinian and his sister stayed here."

"Oh, right," Trumpkin nodded. "He's that dark fellow who's always in the library studying ancient texts. What good will a scholar do you, begging your pardon, Doctor, if you get into trouble?"

"Drinian's not a scholar by nature," Dr. Cornelius answered. "He is fascinated by ships and sailing, and is making use of the castle resources to find out everything he can about such matters."

"He won't find much helpful here," Trumpkin muttered. It was a well-known fact that the old Telmarine kings had attempted to destroy everything they could regarding the sea or the woods.

"Which is why I think he would enjoy a break," Caspian inserted neatly.

"So, two Humans and two spaniels?" Trumpkin said sceptically. "I think you ought to take a dwarf with you, just in case." What he meant, but wasn't going to say, was that Caspian's choices were about as useful as a giant in a battle of wits.

"Very well," Caspian agreed, seeing that Trumpkin was likely to become stubborn and disagreeable about this. "Whom would you recommend?"

Trumpkin really would have liked to go himself, as he did not trust anyone else to adequately guard the king, but he settled for naming a Red Dwarf who was an expert tracker and a steady, reliable soul.

"So be it," Caspian nodded. "We shall leave in the morning."

* * *

Accordingly, the sun the next morning beheld two young Men, two spaniels, and one staid old dwarf with deep red whiskers leaving the castle grounds by a small, little-used gate on the eastern side. The sight of the King of Narnia sneaking out of his own castle like a schoolboy playing truant seemed to amuse the sun, for he burst forth so brilliantly that every hair on Caspian's head shone like purest gold.

"A fair day for our trek, Sire," Drinian observed. He was a few years older than Caspian, old enough to be a bit more steady than the boy-king, and young enough to still have a zest for adventure. He and Caspian, though they had only known each other a few months, were already great friends, drawn together by a mutual love for Old Narnia. Caspian's fascination, naturally enough, lay with the old court life and doings of the kings and queens, while Drinian was drawn to the sea, but both were far more Narnian than Telmarine, and so had formed a bond of friendship.

"Oh yes, splendid," Bright Eyes agreed, nose turned to the sky, front paw pointing east. "Just smell that air!"

Her pup, Snippet, let out a loud bark in agreement.

"Hush that!" Caspian said, frowning at the hapless pup. "We don't want to advertise our departure to everyone, do we? The whole point of leaving at this time of day and in this manner was to avoid all the fuss and ceremony that would come if everyone knew we were off."

Snippet dropped his head to the ground, and Bright Eyes apologized for him. "He's really very young still," she said by way of excuse. Caspian graciously accepted the apology, and said that he hadn't meant to sound cross, and Bright Eyes said that was quite all right, Snippet made everyone cross sooner or later, and the Red Dwarf grunted.

"Are we going to stand around all day chattering about leaving, or are we going to go?" he inquired.

"Right," Caspian said, rubbing his hands together. He opened the door. "Let's be off, then."

They slipped through, unaware that Trumpkin and Dr. Cornelius were watching them from a second-floor window.

"Do you think we ought to open that parchment?" Trumpkin asked the doctor. "Just in case? It doesn't seem safe to let him head off alone like that, without us even knowing where he is heading. Maybe we should send Pattertwig after him, just to keep an eye on them all?"

Dr. Cornelius shook his head. "My dear Trumpkin, he is the king. Whether we like it or not, we must follow his wishes. Besides," the doctor's eyes twinkled knowingly, "it's fairly obvious where he is headed, isn't it?"

"Is it?" Trumpkin asked dryly.

"Think about it," Dr. Cornelius advised. "It's the only logical answer." With that, he left for the library, leaving Trumpkin grumbling into his whiskers about confounded mysteries.

* * *

The travellers had only been walking (or, in Snippet's case, running ahead and then circling back, getting under everyone's feet and making a general nuisance of himself) for about twenty minutes when Gaius, the old Red Dwarf, asked the king where they were going.

"After all, it is difficult to be your guide if I don't know where I'm to lead you."

"Yes, Sire," Drinian added, his eyes shining eagerly. "What venture is this?"

"Guess," Caspian said, looking for all the world like a six-year-old boy teasing his friends over a secret.

Gaius scowled sourly and refused to reply, but Drinian humoured his friend. "We're obviously heading East—or is that a ploy to throw us off the scent?"

"What scent?" Bright Eyes asked. She had only been half-listening to their conversation and now pricked her ears worriedly. "Are we following a scent? I didn't know—what are we tracking? Is Snippet muddying the trail? Is this a Hunt? Are there birds we're after?"

"Peace, Madam," Drinian said courteously. "It was merely an expression. I do not believe the king means for you to follow any scent at the moment."

"No indeed," Caspian confirmed. "Or rather, I wish you to be free to pursue any scent you find that interests you, and that you might think would be useful in Snippet's training."

Reassured, Bright Eyes ignored them again, and Caspian finally relented.

"We are going East, Drinian. In fact, we are going as far east as one can go in Narnia."

"The sea?" Drinian asked, his eyes shining.

"Not just the sea," Caspian said, a light kindling in his own eyes. "We are going to visit the ruins of Cair Paravel."

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_ I have been intrigued by the idea of Caspian's restoration of Narnia for a while now. At the end of Prince Caspian the land is still quite Telmarine in nature, but by The Voyage of the _Dawn Treader_ and especially The Silver Chair things seem to be more "Narnian." How did it happen? What did Caspian do to bring reconciliation between the Old Narnians and the Telmarine Humans who stayed? While pondering these questions, my eye was caught by one line in _Dawn Treader_, when Drinian informs Lucy and Edmund that the ship set out from Cair Paravel. So obviously at some point in the three years between Miraz's defeat and the quest, Caspian rebuilt Cair Paravel and moved his court there. Why? How did it happen? When did it happen?

This story is my attempt to answer those questions.


	2. Chapter 2

"Cair Paravel?" Gaius stopped short. "Lion's Mane, Sire, _why_?"

"Come now, my good dwarf," Drinian said before Caspian could answer. "Surely you aren't afraid of the rumours of ghosts, not now, not after everything that has happened."

Gaius gave the young man a sour look. "Of course not," he said. "I just want to know why the king wishes to visit an old pile of stones."

"It is far more than that, Gaius!" Caspian said enthusiastically. "It is where the ancient kings and queens ruled, where the Four sat on the thrones, where Aslan blessed the rulers. It was built by King Frank and Queen Helen themselves, according to Dr. Cornelius!"

"Built it with their own hands, did they?" Gaius interjected sarcastically.

Caspian rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. I mean it was built _for_ them, naturally, under their direction. It was the heart of Narnia—metaphorically, not geographically, of course—for centuries!"

"All this may be true, but might I remind you that the operative word you are using is 'was'? All this is in the past. Cair Paravel, however grand it might once have been, is gone."

"We shall see," Caspian said mysteriously, and he refused to say anything more, no matter how the others questioned him.

"It's a lengthy journey from here to the mouth of the Great River," Gaius warned, squinting up at the sun.

"All the more reason to set a good pace!" Drinian exclaimed, hoisting his pack a bit higher on his shoulders and striding out energetically. "Unless your legs are too short to keep up, Master Guide?" he called back teasingly.

Gaius's eyes twinkled slightly, but he covered it with a fierce scowl. "You'll be begging for a rest while I'm still fresh, young man," he growled, picking up his own pace to draw abreast of Drinian.

Caspian quickened his steps to stay with them; Bright Eyes barked happily and bounded along, and Snippet tumbled over his feet in his eagerness to stay with them.

"Easy, lad," Caspian said, picking the pup up and setting him on his feet again. Snippet's short tail was wagging so enthusiastically Caspian could feel the vibration throughout the fat little body he held between his hands. "Discretion, remember," he cautioned. "It does no good to rush headlong into things without looking first. Pay attention to your direction, and you'll find that your feet keep up better with your head than vice versa."

"Right you are, Sire!" Snippet said, taking off again and running full-tilt into a nearby gorse bush. "Discretion," he gasped, spitting out a few prickles. "I shan't forget!"

"I am beginning to think Snippet is untrainable," Bright Eyes told Caspian mournfully. "None of my other pups have ever been as thick as he."

"Not to worry," Caspian reassured her. "He's still young. I'm sure, by the end of this venture, he shall be as canny a dog as one could wish to find in all Narnia."

Bright Eyes shook her head doubtfully, but her tail wiggled slightly in pleasure at the king's confidence.

"At least we'll not have to worry about getting lost," Drinian said. "As I understand it, all we have to do is follow the Great River, correct? How many days do you think it'll take us? Four, five?"

"A dwarf could do it in three and a half," Gaius said. "With you humans along, it'll take closer to five, I should say. And you would not have to worry about getting lost in any case, Master Drinian. That is why _I_ am along, remember?"

Drinian grinned cheekily at him. "A wager, my friend! I say that even with humans to slow you, we make it in less than four days."

Gaius snorted. "Impossible."

"Then you should have no fear of accepting."

"It would be like taking nuts from a baby squirrel," Gaius said.

"Come, come, if I am willing to risk it, why should you refuse? Unless," Drinian added challengingly, "you are afraid you'll lose."

"Name your pledge," Gaius said simply.

"Why, if I lose, I shall do all the cooking and clean-up on the way back!" Drinian said.

"Done," Gaius said.

"And if I win, friend Dwarf?"

"_If_ you win," Gaius said with emphasis, "I'll present you with the finest set of dwarf-made armour my nephews can forge."

"I say!" Caspian said in awe. "That is a very generous wager, Gaius." He knew from experience how superior dwarf-made mail was to anything humans could produce, and he also knew that they bestowed such armour only on a select few outside their own clans.

"I'll never be called upon to fulfil it, Sire," Gaius said. "Meaning no offence to you, but you humans cannot possibly walk from here to the mouth of Great River in less than four days. I hope you're a good cook, Master Drinian."

"Come, Sire!" Drinian exclaimed. "Shall we prove him wrong?"

Unable to help himself, Caspian let a grin stretch across his face. It had been too long since he had been able to enjoy a simple challenge such as this—one where the fate of an entire kingdom did not rest on whether he won or lost. He tightened his pack straps. "Bright Eyes!" he said.

The spaniel tilted her head alertly, one paw raised. "Sire?"

"Are you and Snippet ready to run?"

Snippet rolled out of the undergrowth. "Oh, I say! Did someone mention running?"

Caspian exchanged a look of pure pleasure with Drinian, and winked at Gaius. "Right then … off we go."

With that, two humans and two dogs took off sprinting in a spurt of energy. Gaius followed at a more sedate trot, chuckling to himself.

"And how long can you keep _that_ pace, I wonder?" he murmured to himself. "Old Gaius will outlast you yet, my fine lads."

* * *

As Caspian clutched his hands to his knees and wheezed for air, he wondered how he possibly had managed run so fast for so long. Every time he had thought for certain he would have to stop or his lungs would explode and his legs give way, he would glance at Drinian, still running strong, or see Snippet happily plunging along with his tongue lolling to one side of his mouth, and he would find a new reserve of energy to keep going.

Finally, though, even Drinian's strong stride faltered, and he and the king gradually came to a stop. Bright Eyes and Snippet drew up alongside them, panting happily.

"Oh, what a jolly, jolly run!" Snippet said between pants. "Shall we do it again, King Caspian? Eh?"

Bright Eyes raised a paw and cuffed her pup along the head. "Can't you see His Majesty is trying to breathe?" she scolded. "Make yourself useful and see if you can sniff out any water."

"Right!" Snippet barked, and off he plunged again. Bright Eyes immediately collapsed onto the ground to rest her legs. "Oh, for the energy of youth."

Caspian regained enough breath to ask with concern, "Are we asking too much of you, Bright Eyes?" (Puff, gasp) "We don't need to keep this race up if it's going to tax you over much." (Wheeze)

Immediately, the spaniel sprang to her feet again. "Nonsense!" she cried. "I'm as fit as any year-old pup, that I am, Sire!"

Caspian waved her back down. "Good." (Puff, puff) "Now rest while you can. That's a royal command."

Beside him, Drinian had straightened enough to scan behind them. "Any sign of Gaius?"

"Here I am," an unperturbed voice said to Drinian's left. The young man jumped as Gaius crested the small hill and kept right on going past them. "Not tired already, are you, young master? You'll have to do better than that if you want to make Cair Paravel in," he checked the sun, "three and a half days."

Behind his back, the two humans exchanged despairing glances. Caspian dragged the last little bit of air possible into his protesting lungs. "Ready, Bright Eyes?" he asked.

She sat up. "Aye, Sire."

They started running again, joined shortly by Snippet, who instantly forgot that he had been sent to find water and instead joined in the chase, hindered only by the fact that he kept tripping over his own long ears.

* * *

By the time the moon had risen and they were finally forced to stop for the night, Caspian wasn't sure he'd ever make his legs work again. He tried not to glare at Gaius, who was just as spry as he had been at the start of the day. The young king leaned over to Drinian, keeping his voice low.

"Just between you and me … perhaps we could set a more, um, _reasonable_ pace tomorrow?"

Drinian was trying to unobtrusively rub his own legs. "Agreed … but I should warn you, Sire: we'll all be better off if I win this bet. I'm a terrible cook."

Caspian released something between a chuckle and a groan and, giving up on maintaining any kind of kingly dignity, flopped down on his back.

"Look," he said quietly, pointing at the stars. "Alambil shines bright in the southern sky."

"Well, of course she does," Gaius said. When Caspian looked at him curiously, the old dwarf continued, "You—or rather, Aslan through you—brought peace to Narnia, King Caspian. Alambil will shine for us as long as peace reigns in Narnia."

Caspian settled his head back into the soft grass and considered the star more sombrely. Somehow, it was a bit intimidating to know that how he ruled Narnia could dictate the very course of the stars. Or was it, rather, that the stars dictated his course? He recalled how Dr. Cornelius had said that the meeting of Tarva and Alambil meant some good was coming to Narnia … would he have won the war against Miraz, he wondered, had those stars not met? Was it all just a matter of prophetic timing?

No matter, he decided, closing his eyes. In the end, it was Aslan who decreed how all things turned out, both in Narnia and in the skies. And in the Other World, too, the world where the Four lived … for it was Aslan, not just Queen Susan's Horn, who had brought them to Narnia just when they were most needed. And it was Aslan who had appointed him king, and Aslan who would continue to guide his rule … and that was one reason why he wanted to find Cair Paravel …

Drinian, turning his head to ask Caspian something, saw that the king was asleep, and very gently covered him with a blanket. Snippet curled up at the boy king's feet, Bright Eyes guarded his head, and even Gaius made an effort to gather more wood for their campfire quietly, so as not to wake him (he caused twice as much noise in so doing as he would have normally, but it was the thought that mattered).

And in Caspian's dreams, a pair of golden eyes looked at him with love and approval, and a beloved voice encouraged him to press on.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**_ I originally meant to have them arrive at Cair Paravel in this chapter ... but then Gaius and Drinian started bantering, and well, I just went with the flow. Hopefully nothing will hinder them from arriving in the next chapter! Thank you to all who have reviewed already; I wish I could take the time to thank you personally, but with a toddler and a two-month-old in the house, it's all I can do to keep up with my stories, never mind replying to reviews. You must just take it from me here that I really do read and appreciate every one!


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was just setting behind them on the third day when the small group broke free of the eastern woods. Caspian's legs ached beyond anything he'd ever thought possible, but when Drinian set the pace, how could the king do anything less than keep up?

"There it is!" Snippet said excitedly, his fat little body wriggling. "The island of Cair Paravel—look, see! And the sea, too … ooh, Mother, doesn't it smell delicious? Can I go explore? Can I?"

"_May_ I, dear, and no, you may not. Your job is to stick close to the king and obey his commands," Bright Eyes instructed. Snippet's tail lost its enthusiasm, but just to prove how far he had come in the last few days, he stood dutifully by.

Caspian himself has lost what little breath was left in his lungs at the sight of the tiny island. It lay just off the mainland to their left, separated by about forty yards. Trees clustered thickly round the entire thing, and all one could see of the castle was one ancient stone wall rising above the treetops.

Desolate and abandoned as it was, Caspian felt a sense of awe at beholding the island. A thrill ran down his back, and for a moment he forget his burning lungs and aching legs, and he stood a little straighter.

"We made it, Master Gaius," Drinian said triumphantly, breathing deeply of the invigorating salt air. "You owe me a new suit of armour."

"We aren't at the castle yet," Gaius pointed out. "How did His Majesty plan to cross the channel?"

They all turned to look at Caspian, who felt himself growing red. "I—oh, bother," he said. How could he have forgotten something so important?

"We can swim it," Drinian said confidently.

Gaius shook his head. "I don't swim."

"I grew up near the sea—the last Telmarine outpost on the Eastern Shore, though a good bit north of this, obviously," Drinian said. "I used to give my brothers and sisters rides on my back. Come." He squatted down and motioned for Gaius to climb onto his back.

The dwarf tugged his beard agitatedly. "If I refuse, you'll claim it's because I don't want you to win," he protested, "but how do I know you can bear my weight? Dwarfs are a good bit heavier than Human children, you know."

"He's right," Caspian said quietly. "Besides, now that the sun has set, it's too dangerous. None of us know these waters, and if something goes wrong, we won't be able to see to help. We'll have to wait until morning."

"And how will we cross then?" Gaius demanded. "I won't trust a Human to get me safely across, no matter how strong a swimmer he is."

"You could wait here for us," Caspian suggested. "We shouldn't be more than a couple of days."

"Oh no," Gaius said. "Trumpkin told me I was responsible for keeping you lot out of trouble. My nephew'd never speak to me again if I let you wander around some haunted island by yourselves."

Caspian's first reaction was indignation that Trumpkin thought he needed a nursemaid, but he was distracted by one word Gaius had used. "Nephew?"

"Aye, Trumpkin's mother was my sister," Gaius confirmed.

"What was Trumpkin like as a child?" Caspian asked, fascinated.

"Younger," Gaius replied shortly. "About the island, Sire?"

"We'll have to build a raft," Drinian said, trying not to sound grumpy about losing the bet. "I can do that tonight, if you wish, Sire."

"Thank you, Drinian," Caspian said, smiling apologetically at his friend. He rather wished he could order Gaius to concede the bet, since it wasn't Drinian's fault at all that he had lost, but he knew that would not appeal to either one's sense of fair play.

"What will you use to cut the branches, eh?" Gaius demanded. "Did you think to bring an axe, Sire?"

Before Caspian could respond, a deep voice thundered behind him, causing them all to jump (especially Snippet, who landed hard on one of his own ears and yelped in pain).

"_Who_ dares speak of an axe in my presence?"

Caspian swallowed a sudden lump in his throat and turned, very slowly, to face the angry Hamadryad behind him.

He was, Caspian thought (for he was still unsure of the distinctions between all the tree nymphs), god of the Oak tree: towering high above the Humans; shaggy hair growing all over his face and head; piercing green eyes glaring angrily at the mortals before him; warts covering his hands and face … Caspian suspected by his relative straightness that he was a _young_ Oak, which only made him all the more frightening.

"Your—your pardon, lord," he finally stammered out, realizing at last that as king, he was responsible to address the apparent insult. "We—we did not realize we were in the presence of …" he stopped. Somehow that sounded like too much of an excuse. "We are, We fear," suddenly sounding very much like a king instead of a guilty schoolboy, "without excuse. We can only crave your lordship's pardon, and ask if there is any way We may make reparation."

The Hamadryad peered down at them, noting the awe on Drinian's face, the ashen terror on Gaius's, and the eager welcome on the dogs'. His eyes finally rested on Caspian.

"You are the King," he rumbled, sounding almost surprised.

"We have that grave and humble privilege," Caspian agreed. "We are Caspian X, King of Narnia, and We apologize most sincerely for the insult to your lordship's domain."

"You take full responsibility, King Caspian, for the Dwarf's words?" the Hamadryad asked.

"We do," Caspian said once more.

"No," Gaius said suddenly. He moved slowly to Caspian's side, his throat working wildly at a lump. "No, I was the one who said it, it's my fault, don't blame the king."

Caspian rested a gentle hand on the dwarf's shoulder. "Friend Gaius," he said softly, "You must allow Us to bear this."

The dwarf looked inclined to argue, but managed to keep his mouth shut, though he did not move from Caspian's side. The king was dimly aware of Drinian coming up on his left hand, and Bright Eyes and Snippet winding around his feet. Even in the midst of his fear (_what_ would the Hamadryad demand for reparation?), he took comfort in the support of his friends.

"Well then," the Hamadryad said after a brief pause. "They _said_ you were a true king." He swept his head down toward the ground in a surprisingly graceful bow. "My lord king, there is no call for reparation or forgiveness toward Your Royal Self. Were it merely this Dwarf, we would have punished him sorely, but as he is under Your protection, all is forgotten."

Caspian's breath left his body in a rush. "You are most kind, my lord," he said. "We are in your debt."

"No, my King," the Hamadryad corrected him. "We are in _your_ debt—all of Narnia is; for were it not for you, we would still be asleep, groaning under Miraz's tyranny, longing for the day of our freedom. There is no Narnian who would not give up his life for you."

And there was really nothing Caspian could find to say to that.

* * *

Once the Hamadryad (one Balanos by name) learned of their difficulties, he was more than happy to offer up wood from his own tree for their use as a raft.

"Oh but—won't that hurt?" Caspian asked, realizing only afterward that he might have accidentally insulted the god again. Thankfully, Balanos merely smiled gravely.

"His Majesty is most kind, to concern himself with my wellbeing, but in truth, a little pain is a small price to pay to do him a service."

Caspian was about to blurt that it wasn't necessary, that they would take the wood from another tree, one that was not home to a nymph, when it occurred to him that such an answer would hurt Balanos terribly—far worse than the temporary physical pain of losing a few boughs. This was one of those moments, he suspected, when being a king meant you accepted something you didn't want, which the other person didn't particularly want to give, in order to make a deeper point.

He tried to imagine what High King Peter would do in this situation. Queen Lucy, he knew, would smile and laugh and somehow charm everyone into doing exactly as she wanted, while making them think it was what _they_ wanted too, but he could never hope to emulate her. There really was no one quite like Lucy, in this world or in any other.

So he stood a little taller, squared his shoulders to make them look a little broader, and said in his deepest and kingliest voice that They were Most Honoured, Truly.

Drinian built the raft, while Gaius, unusually subdued, assisted him, and Snippet got in the way. Bright Eyes curled up by Caspian's feet as the boy king discussed tree matters with Balanos.

"You see, Your Majesty, a few dry branches here or there don't hurt, not when they are given willingly," Balanos explained. "To give of our own choice a living bough, that does hurt, but by Aslan's grace we may regrow them. It is only when our limbs are taken from us by force that they are gone permanently, and that is why it is such a grave crime in Narnia to chop wood from a living tree without first consulting the tree's dryad."

"But do all trees have dryads?" Caspian asked. "Or is it like Talking Beasts and Dumb, where we may hunt the one but would never dream of injuring the other?"

Bright Eyes whuffed in agreement.

"There are spirit-less trees, naturally," Balanos said. "But I have never yet met a Human or Dwarf who has been able to tell the difference between a tree that houses a Dryad or Hamadryad, and a tree that does not, and so it does not do to simply assume the tree you wish to turn to firewood does not host a nymph. One must always ask permission, just in case."

"There's still so much to learn," Caspian said, momentarily discouraged. "How will I ever teach the people all this? I can't see those Telmarines politely asking a tree if they may please have a branch or two for firewood. Nor do I see many trees being willing to sacrifice limbs for Telmarines!"

"It will come, Sire," Balanos reassured him. "It may take time, but it will come."

"After all, at least you are willing to learn yourself," Bright Eyes added. "Pups can't ever grow into proper dogs if they don't see their dams and sires acting the way _they_ ought. Silly dogs have silly pups, and foolish kings breed foolish subjects.

"Although sometimes," she added mournfully, "you get a hopelessly foolish pup anyway." She looked over at Snippet, who was rolling on his back on the carpet of dead leaves, tongue hanging out as his tail wiggled ecstatically.

Caspian laughed. He was beginning to understand that Bright Eyes' seeming harshness toward her pup concealed a great deal of fondness for the hapless lad.

"Well, let us hope that the people of Narnia learn as quickly as your Snippet, then," he said, and watched her own tail wag with pride and pleasure.

"The raft is done, Sire," Drinian said, approaching them. "We may set out for the island at dawn." He wiped sweat from his face with his sleeve and bowed to Balanos. "I thank you most deeply, lord, for your gift of wood. I only wish it could have been worked by one more expert than I."

"It was built with love and care for the king," Balanos replied. "That makes it a far worthier gift than talent alone could ever accomplish." Snapping off a few fingers, he motioned to Gaius. "If you would use your tinderbox, Master Dwarf, I believe a fire might be in order tonight. The days are warm, but our nights can be cool, here by the sea."

Gaius bowed, saying nothing, and lit the fire.

"Sleep well, King Caspian, friends," Balanos said, withdrawing from the circle of firelight. "Tonight, you are guarded by the trees. You need have no fear."

And Caspian did just that, buoyed by the thought that on the morrow he would finally, finally see Cair Paravel, home to the kings and queen of old.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **I owe a great deal of the inspiration for the meeting of Balanos and Caspian to Andi Horton and her scene in Someone Else's Story of Cor and Aravis encountering the Centaurs in what can only be described as an Awkward Meeting._

_Next chapter--I promise--they finally each the Cair!  
_


	4. Chapter 4

Balanos's raft was as sturdy as a dwarf-built rowboat. Drinian marvelled at it as he poled them across the channel, but Caspian was too fixed on Cair Paravel to notice. He swallowed past the lump in his throat as the raft gently bumped ashore. Snippet made to bound off, but Drinian caught him as the pup flew past him.

"Hold hard there, lad," he cautioned. "'Tis the king's pleasure to disembark first." He ginned crookedly at Caspian. "Your Majesty?"

Caspian swallowed again—why _wouldn't_ that lump go down?—and stepped ashore.

His first reaction was disappointment. He had expected the island, this hallowed spot, to feel different. Sacred. He had dreamed about this moment a hundred times since Dr. Cornelius had told him to take a holiday: a thrill would shoot through his body the moment his foot touched the ground, and he would feel the presence of the ancient kings and queen, and maybe even Aslan would appear to him.

Instead, he just stepped onto a sandy beach, followed a heartbeat later by Snippet, who raced past him in a spray of wet sand.

"How-oooo!" the pup howled in excitement.

Caspian's disillusionment broke into laughter. "Come on!" he waved at the other three. "Let us explore, shall we?"

Bright Eyes was off the raft in one bound, followed by Gaius, who was grumbling about getting his feet wet and sand sticking to his boots. Drinian paused long enough to pull the raft more securely onto the shore, and then joined them.

"Where to, Your Majesty?"

Caspian pointed to the stone wall at the heart of the island. "There."

Gaius eyed the thick forest between them and the wall with displeasure. "It'll be a right mess trying to get through that lot, Sire."

Caspian grinned and clapped him on the back. "Then it's a good thing we have all day, isn't it?"

"I suppose chopping through it is out of the question," Gaius said.

"Until we know if any dryads dwell here, and what they consider their territory, yes," Caspian said.

"Well come on then, the day's not getting shorter, nor the task any easier for our standing here talking about it," Drinian said.

They started to push through the heavy growth, and it was here Bright Eyes really proved her worth. She kept her nose to the ground, alerting them to the presence of a stream, which made travelling much easier by following its banks. She also was somehow able to tell them, just by scent, how close they were getting to the ruins, and helped encourage them over the worst parts.

Finally, they broke free from the surrounding trees and found themselves stumbling into the remains of a courtyard. And here, at last, Caspian felt some of that magic he had anticipated—though even that differed from his expectations. Instead of a rush of excitement, he simply felt awed, as though he was in the presence of a great and weighty sorrow.

Even Snippet felt something; he slunk through the daisies on his belly to nuzzle up to Bright Eyes.

"Why is it so sad, Mumma?" he whimpered.

"Hush," she whispered back. "It's sad because it is remembering the past, when everything in Narnia was as it ought to be."

As it ought to be … _yes_, Caspian thought. That was exactly what he wanted. He wanted a Narnia that was as it had been in the Golden Age, when Humans and Talking Beasts and fauns and dryads all lived together in harmony; when Aslan walked among them as a friend; when peace reigned.

He was not High King Peter. He could never aspire to the quiet wisdom of King Edmund. Queen Lucy's joy was as much a mystery to him as Queen Susan's grace. He knew he could not _be_ the ancient kings and queens, nor could his reign imitate theirs.

But oh, he could strive for that. And maybe, in the striving, his people would find their way.

* * *

The companions explored the ruins in a reverent hush only broken when Snippet raced down and then immediately back up a flight of stairs in what, Caspian surmised, had been the Great Hall.

"What is it, Snip?" Caspian asked the trembling pup.

"I don't know," Snippet panted. "I just felt … _something_ … down there."

Caspian looked at Drinian and Gaius, who returned his gaze. Could Cair Paravel have a guardian that would punish them for violating its sanctuary? The Ancient Four had mentioned nothing about encountering such a creature, but perhaps It had recognized them as the Cair's rightful dwellers and let them be.

Caspian squared his shoulders and reminded himself that _he_ was Narnia's king now—Aslan himself had blessed his kingship.

"Right then," he said in a voice that tried to sound assured. "Let's see what's down there."

Gaius expertly applied flint to a piece of the thick deadwood that littered the ground and stepped in front of the king with the lit torch.

"I'll go first, Sire," he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

He handed another torch to Drinian. "And you'll bring up the rear, lad."

Flanked front and back by his loyal subjects, Caspian descended down the dark stairs. He counted under his breath, "One, two three …"

On sixteen, he reached the bottom, and as Gaius thrust his torch forward into the darkness, Caspian drew his breath in sharply.

They had discovered the ancient treasure store of Narnia.

"By the—Lion," Drinian swore, the old oath coming haltingly to his tongue. "It's a mercy none of the Telmarines ever knew about this … no rumour of ghosts would have protected this place."

"Are you so sure they were just rumours?" Caspian asked involuntarily. He too felt that presence of that mysterious "something" Snippet had sensed. He glanced uneasily at the suits of armour standing guard along the paths. _Were_ they empty?

"This is a black place, Sire," Gaius said. "We should leave, right now."

Caspian was inclined to agree with the old dwarf, but Drinian spoke first. "Nothing has attacked us yet, Master Gaius. You would not ask the King of Narnia to turn coward?"

"I would ask him to heed sense," Gaius muttered, but the mere charge of cowardice was enough to stiffen Caspian's spine.

"Drinian is right, Gaius. Perhaps our imaginations are running away with us. This place has been abandoned for many years, after all. Maybe what we are sensing is just its emptiness."

"Hardly empty," Drinian said, starting to walk down the nearest paths. "Look at these riches, Your Majesty!"

Caspian shook off his uneasiness and followed his friend. Growing up a prince, he thought he had seen wealth beyond imagining. What lay in Cair Paravel's treasure chamber, though, stunned even him. Not just the quantity, but the quality of the treasure. He saw dwarf-made suits of armour that made his own look clumsy and lumbering, crowns and jewellery in settings so delicate they left him breathless, weapons that were as much a work of art as a tool of war …

They looked and explored and exclaimed until Bright Eyes said briskly,

"Well! Jewels and gold and precious metals are all very nice, but the torches are fading, and quite frankly, I don't like the smell of this place. May we go now?"

"Right!" Caspian said, coming back to himself. "After all, none of this is going anywhere." His chest swelled slightly at the thought of being the king to whom all these glories belonged.

"Shall we take any of it with us?" Drinian asked, his eyes fixed covetously on a long, slim rapier whose silver basket hilt was set with rubies and emeralds.

"Better not," Gaius advised with a shudder. He had marvelled at the ancient dwarfish workmanship as much as any of them, but was still uneasy about it all.

"Nonsense," Caspian said, his eyes glittering in the fading torchlight. "I am king of Narnia, am I not? And if these treasures belong to the king, then they belong to me. Take what you will, my friends. I bestow it upon you."

Gaius and Bright Eyes still refused, but Caspian and Drinian both chose swords and daggers in marvellously worked sheaths, as well as golden helms, and Caspian even draped a long gold necklace over Snippet's neck. Bright Eyes, however, very politely asked him to remove it.

"We Talking Beasts need no extra adornment, Sire, and I don't want Snippet getting foolish ideas about what is and is not important."

"By the Lion," Caspian said, slightly miffed, "Even Trufflehunter and Reepicheep and the rest accepted gold chains at my coronation."

"That was their choice, then. Personally, I think it's all nonsense. How can any metal, however rare, compare with the bright sun and the green grass and the clean water and knowing that you are free? Only Humans and Dwarfs, begging all your pardons, place value on rocks and metal."

Snippet dropped his head and let the chain slide off. "Thank you all the same, King Caspian, but I think my mother is correct."

"Very well," Caspian accepted ungraciously.

He started for the stairs, but no sooner had he set foot on the bottommost step when, with a grinding, creaking noise, the square of daylight at the top started to shrink. Before any of them fully realized what was happening, a stone panel slid out of the wall and fully covered the doorway, meeting the other wall with a "thud" of finality.

Caspian stood in shock as Gaius rushed past him and tried to open the panel. He heaved and pried before sitting down dejectedly on the top step.

"No good, Sire. We're trapped."

At that, Snippet threw his nose up into the air and released a long howl of utter dejection, and Caspian's heart sank into his boots.

What had he done?


	5. Chapter 5

They struggled fruitlessly for over an hour to escape the treasure chamber: Bright Eyes and Snippet sniffed all around the perimeter, trying to find a crack or flaw that would indicate a second way out; Gaius felt, inch by painstaking inch, the edges of the stone slab to see if he could shift it; and Caspian and Drinian mainly tried to stay out of the way and not feel useless.

"I suppose the magic in the chamber sensed when we tried to leave with the treasure," Drinian hypothesized, "and that was why it closed. Perhaps if we had left empty-handed, we would have been safe."

"I don't understand it," Caspian said angrily. "I am _king_. If it let the Four take treasure away, why not me? Am I somehow less of a king than Peter and Edmund?"

Drinian wisely held his tongue.

"No use," Gaius said. The torches had long since flickered out, but Caspian could tell by the dwarf's voice that he was now sitting near the two Humans. "We're well and truly trapped."

Bright Eyes and Snippet crept close and whimpered slightly. For a few moments, no one said anything. Then Gaius burst out angrily,

"I _told_ you so!"

"Oh, for—listen, there has to be a way out," Caspian said, trying to rein in his temper. "Everyone just think about it. _Silently._"

Gaius muttered something incomprehensible, but otherwise complied. Caspian leaned his head back against the rough stone wall. Everything had been going so well. He was so certain he was doing something Aslan would approve, something to help Narnia … and now he was stuck in a damp, dark room with no prospect of escaping. True, eventually, when he didn't return Trumpkin and Dr. Cornelius would open the sealed letter and come search for him. By that point, however, they would all most likely be dead from suffocation. He thought the room was already starting to feel stuffy!

Oh, if only he had a little _light_, something to help him see. His time in the caves of Aslan's How had left him just slightly claustrophobic. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that when he opened them something would appear to help him.

To his surprise, the room _did_ seem just a hair brighter when his eyes opened. Not enough to make out any details, but Caspian thought he could see a faint golden glow. It was stronger over in the back.

"Do you see that?" he asked his companions in a hushed voice, but none of them answered. The hair on the back of Caspian's neck rose at their uncanny stillness, but he plucked up his courage, picked up the jewelled dagger he'd let drop beside him, and moved toward the light.

It grew steadily stronger the closer he got, until he could actually see the piles of treasure and the locked trunks. The young king rounded a corner guarded by two suits of strangely worked armour, rejoicing in the fact that he could see the detailing by the golden glow, and there—

Caspian cried out with mixed joy and relief.

"Oh, Aslan!"

The Great Lion stood before him, his mane shedding light as a cat sheds fur. In his happiness, Caspian didn't even notice that Aslan's face was stern, or the ominous lashing of his tail.

"Are you here to release us, Aslan?" Caspian asked eagerly. "Why did you not appear in the main chamber? Why lead me back here? Was it you who put the others to sleep? Why?"

"Peace," Aslan growled.

Caspian took a step back. The gravity of the moment started to settle in on him, and his enthusiasm faltered. "What—what is it, Aslan? What have I done?"

"Do you not know?"

"I—I suppose I should have listened to Gaius, if that's what you mean, but how could I know this would happen? _Is_ that what you mean?"

Aslan shook his mighty head, and Caspian's heart sank, landing somewhere in the region of his boots.

"Oh dear. I am sorry, whatever it is. Please Aslan, won't you tell me what I've done wrong?"

"I will tell you," Aslan said, "the story behind the magic of this chamber."

Caspian didn't _really_ care about that at that particular moment, but even he knew better than to argue with the Lion.

* * *

_In the Golden Age of Narnia, when Peter was High King, Queen Susan grew concerned about the treasure the Four were accumulating. For what, she said, did they need with treasure? Were not Narnia and her people treasure enough?_

_True, Queen Lucy agreed, but what could they do? It would hurt the dwarfs' feelings dreadfully if they were told they could no longer bequeath their finest work on their king and queen; likewise the moles and other diggers who delighted in bestowing the largest and brightest jewels on the monarchs. Many of the Narnians showed their love by creating beautiful items to be cherished, be they crowns or jewels or armour or gowns or …_

_High King Peter suggested that they distribute the riches among their subjects._

_But, King Edmund pointed out, it wasn't as if anyone in Narnia truly _needed_ any of it. Everyone had plenty of beautiful and lovely things all his or her own._

_Queen Lucy agreed with her royal brother, and also mentioned that if they gave their treasure away, it might inspire greed and discontent in the people._

_In the end, Queen Susan came up with the solution. Perhaps, she suggested, they should take one of the stone chambers beneath the Cair, the ones that were only used for extra storage, and put the treasure in there. That way they would not see it on a daily basis and be tempted to make it of greater importance than their true treasure—the land and people of Narnia._

_And Aslan, Queen Lucy added softly._

_They could still use it whenever they wished or needed, the Gentle Queen continued, with a nod of recognition of her sister's addition, but it would be out of sight__._

_The other three agreed to Queen Susan's plan and acted accordingly. It was King Edmund who first realized that such a trove would prove a great temptation to thieves and evil-doers, and it was he who asked Aslan to place a curse or blessing, depending on one's perspective, on the new treasure chamber. If ever anyone attempted to remove even one gold coin for his or her own personal benefit, not for the overall good of Narnia, said individual would be immediately trapped inside the chamber._

_Queen Lucy added the caveat that the person would be released when he or she repented of greed._

_And Aslan, pleased with his children's wisdom, heeded their wishes, and so blessed the chamber. And so it was that Aslan's own paw protected the treasure of Narnia long after the Four vanished and the Cair crumbled into dust.

* * *

_

When Aslan's heavy voice finished speaking, Caspian's head was nearly to his knees in shame. He had been a fool—worse, he had behaved like his uncle Miraz.

"Oh, Aslan," he said in a voice thick with tears. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, telling himself that grown men and kings don't cry.

"There is no shame in honest tears, Son of Adam," Aslan said. "Nor in repentance."

With that, Caspian slid to his knees and let the tears wash away his guilt and fear.

"Forgive me, Aslan?" he asked finally, wiping his face on his sleeve and looking humbly up into the Lion's eyes.

"Always, my son." One warm paw rested gently on Caspian's head.

Caspian rested in silence for a moment.

"Aslan," he said after a while, his heart eased. "Was I wrong from the beginning? I mean—with searching out Cair Paravel, and wanting to restore Narnia to the way it was during the Golden Age, and, and, all that sort of thing?"

"No, my son," Aslan said. "But take heed, in your journey, that you do nothing in a desire for your own greatness. Narnia is only great when her people's, and most especially her rulers', eyes are turned toward me."

"I—I think I see," Caspian said. "You mean that if I want another Golden Age so that my name is remembered like the Ancient Four, it is selfish, and won't do any good for anyone, but if I do it so that we are more like the way you originally intended Narnia to be, we'll all prosper?"

"You are starting to gain wisdom, King."

"Is it always this painful a process?" Caspian asked ruefully.

The Lion chuckled.

"Now, King Caspian," he said, "return to your companions. If you and Drinian return the items to their proper place, you will find your way clear to you once more."

With that, the golden glow increased until Caspian had to squeeze his eyes shut against the brilliance. When he opened them again, the Lion was gone.

Somehow, though, the memory of that living gold made all the treasure in the chamber seem dull and worthless in comparison.


	6. Chapter 6

"Welcome back, dear king!" Dr. Cornelius beamed, embracing his liege lord. He looked more closely at the returned travellers. They all looked considerably wearier than when they had left, and Gaius had gone from taciturn to positively mute. The king had a new light in his eyes, a new nobility to his bearing. Dr. Cornelius would have given much to know what had happened to them all in the last week, but he supposed he would have to wait until someone was ready to talk before finding out.

"We are glad to be returned, Doctor," the king said, kissing the half-dwarf on both cheeks. "How has the government functioned in our absence?"

"Well enough, well enough," Dr. Cornelius said. "A few hitches here and there, but nothing to fret over. How was your holiday?"

"Enlightening," Caspian said.

The doctor nodded wisely, though he found Caspian's response rather _un_enlightening, himself. "Well, I'm sure you must be tired. Shall I have the cook send a meal up to your room? There's nothing here that requires immediate attention …"

"Thank you, no," Caspian said. "In fact, I wish for you to have my councillors gathered together, if you would be so kind. At once, please. I will grab a bite to eat in the kitchens and meet you all in the Great Hall. Friends, would you be so good as to accompany me?" He turned to his travelling companions with a half bow.

"Is anything wrong, lord king?" Dr. Cornelius hinted, hoping to hear the reason behind this extraordinary request.

Caspian smiled. "No, Doctor. In fact, I think we are about to make things _more right_."

* * *

Thanks to Pattertwig and his messenger corps, Dr. Cornelius did manage to get all the councillors except Trufflehunter, who was visiting relatives in southern Narnia, near the Archenland border, gathered together within half an hour. Caspian stood before the dais, rather than on it, with his companions at his back, and mentally calculated how each person would respond to his proposal.

Dr. Cornelius, he knew, would fully support him. Trumpkin would think of a thousand reasons to object, and end by yielding to the king's wish. He hoped Glenstorm would agree with him, but one could never tell with centaurs. Mentius the faun was an agreeable little chap; Caspian had no fears regarding him.

The Humans on the council—Lords Azor and Mahal and Jamin, and Lady Sela—were the ones about whom Caspian was most concerned. He didn't know any of them very well, even after a year; he had only appointed them as councillors after Dr. Cornelius insisted he needed both Humans and Old Narnians on his council to maintain fairness.

Caspian felt their speculative eyes resting on him. he knew that he must present an unusual spectacle: unbathed, travel-stained, standing on equal footing with them rather than seated on the dais, with an odd collection of friends with him; dogs, dwarf, and human. He smiled inwardly. It was good. He wanted them wondering.

"Thank you all for answering my summons so quickly," he began courteously. "I am sure you are all wondering what this is about."

"Has it anything to do with your mysterious and unauthorized absence this last week?" Lord Mahal asked with an edge to his sleek voice.

Caspian raised one eyebrow. "I was not aware that the king of Narnia needed to ask anyone but Aslan for permission to do anything."

"No more he does," broke in Trumpkin. "Kettles and cobbles! Are we the king's councillors or his schoolmasters?"

"Sometimes I wonder the same thing," Lord Mahal said. "Most people would consider His Majesty of an age to still require schoolmasters."

Dr. Cornelius coughed delicately. "Surely this is all straying from the subject at hand?"

"Quite right," Mentius agreed. "You were telling us why you called a council, Sire?"

"Indeed I was," Caspian said, letting his own voice harden. He could tell he was going to have problems with Lord Mahal if he didn't take a stance right now. "And if my Lord Mahal questions my ability to rule again, he may excuse himself from our council, and we will find a replacement who is less insolent. My lord?"

The tall Telmarine bowed, though his eyes glittered angrily. "My apologies, Your Majesty."

"Now then, to business," Caspian said, nodding regally at the lord. "I have called you here to propose one simple thought. I wish to rebuild Cair Paravel, and set up court there."

For a moment, stunned silence filled the room. Even Dr. Cornelius looked shocked, though his was the first face to break into a smile.

"An excellent idea, Sire," he said.

"Are you mad, dwarf?" Lord Mahal broke out. "Is the king mad? Why should he move court when he has a perfectly good one here? And why spend the time and effort to rebuild a pile of stones when this castle serves his needs? And why should we set up court in a place haunted by ghosts and fiends?"

"Are you quite finished, my lord?" Caspian asked quietly.

Lord Mahal closed his mouth with a snap.

"His lordship does have some valid concerns, King Caspian," Lord Azor said diffidently. "Though perhaps they were not phrased in the best manner." He glared at his colleague.

"I think we are all curious as to how you came to this decision, Sire," Glenstorm rumbled.

"This castle," Caspian said, having prepared his speech most of the way back from Cair Paravel, "was built by my great-great-grandfather. It is a wholly Telmarine construct. We are no longer a Telmarine land. We are _Narnians_, every one of us: Human, Beast, Dwarf, Faun, Dryad … all of us.

"When Aslan was honoured and the country ruled as it should be, Cair Paravel was the heart of the land. Dr. Cornelius, you were the first to tell me that. I have been to Cair Paravel, and seen for myself the remains of that blessed place. It would require work, yes, but if everyone cooperated—Old and New Narnians alike—we could rebuild it, restore it to its former glory." Caspian's eyes kindled with the fervour of his dream. "From its eastern doors we could see the sun rise over the sea every morning—a reminder of Aslan's Country across the sea. This castle serves merely as a reminder of generations of oppression by my ancestors. It is not a heritage of which I am proud, nor one I want to pass down to my heirs."

"And what of—the beings who dwell there, in the Black Woods?" Lord Azor asked nervously.

"There are no ghosts," Caspian said firmly. "And the woods are not cursed. I have met the lord of the wood, a Hamadryad by the name of Balanos. I have asked him for permission to open up the woods, make the island open again, perhaps even fill in the channel so that it is attached to the mainland once more. He has granted it, saying that anything that would move Narnia _away_ from the memories of oppression and _toward_ Aslan's glory must be supported."

"Well said!" Mentius applauded. "I, for one, will do whatever is needful, Sire, to see Cair Paravel restored, and I can promise the assistance of my brother fauns."

"I too, will do my part to assist," Dr. Cornelius said. "I will search through my records for every detail ever captured about Cair Paravel, that it may reflect its former self as clearly as possible."

"You spoke with Lord Balanos?" Glenstorm asked.

"I did," Caspian affirmed.

"He was once the greatest of all Hamadryads," the centaur said. "If he has blessed this project, then so must we all."

Lady Sela startled Caspian by speaking. The only female on the council, she was young for her position, the only member of her family to choose to stay in Narnia after the Telmarine Exodus. "Is this not why we Humans chose to stay in Narnia?" she asked, her clear voice ringing throughout the chamber. "To see the kingdom the way it was in the old stories? We have all seen the Ancient Four with our own eyes; now we have the opportunity to walk where they walked." She bowed. "I and my house are at your service, Sire."

"As are mine," Lord Jamin said. He was an elder of over sixty years, but his eyes glittered with boyish delight. "I should dearly love to see the old ways restored."

That left only three to speak: Trumpkin, Lord Azor, and Lord Mahal.

"If you don't mind, Your Majesty," Trumpkin said, "before I say yea or nay to this scheme, I would like to ask your travelling companions their thoughts." His eyes were fixed on Gaius.

"But of course," Caspian said courteously. This was all going much more smoothly than he had anticipated. He stepped aside. "Ask them whatever you wish."

"Bright Eyes," Trumpkin began, "did you smell anything wrong about the place? It seemed well enough to me when I was there, but I don't have a dog's nose."

Caspian had forgotten that Trumpkin had been to Cair Paravel's ruins, back when the Four first appeared in Narnia.

"It smelled … sad," Bright Eyes said consideringly. "But no, there was nothing fundamentally wrong about the place."

"Not even the—" Snippet swallowed his words abruptly as Drinian nudged his hindquarters with a toe. Caspian had asked them all to not speak of the treasure chamber—he didn't want half of Narnia trapped in there due to greed.

"Not even what?" Lord Mahal asked, his eyes fixed on the air above the pup. He, like many of the Telmarines, still found _talking_ to animals (at least, talking to them and expecting them to return an answer) awkward.

"Not even the worst parts," Snippet said, letting his tongue loll out in a particularly foolish-looking fashion. He wagged his tail eagerly, and Lord Mahal rolled his eyes and forthwith ignored the pup.

Caspian hid a grin. Lion's Mane, but Snippet had promise after all!

"Drinian, what think you of this scheme?" Lord Azor asked.

"I support His Majesty because he is my liege lord," Drinian said in his deep voice. "But I would support him in this were he nothing more than my friend. I truly believe this is the next step toward a more unified Narnia."

"Well said," Dr. Cornelius murmured encouragingly.

Trumpkin brushed Drinian aside. "Gaius?" he asked expectantly.

Gaius scowled, first at his nephew, and then at the rest of the councillors. "You're fools if you think to argue with the king," he said, and Caspian blinked in surprise. "He stood before me after I unwittingly insulted the lord of the wood, and offered to take my punishment on his shoulders. I saw him after he met Aslan on the isle of Cair Paravel and learned humility. I watched while he pushed himself beyond what I thought Humans capable of, simply in the journey to and from the Cair. If he wants to build this castle again, he will do it with or without you. As for me, I am pledged to serve him—for my life."

With that, he dropped to one knee and bowed his head to Caspian. "Command me, Your Majesty. I am yours."

"Er—thank you," Caspian said feebly. He certainly hadn't been expecting _that_! He reached down and tried to tug the dwarf to his feet. "Oh for mercy's sake, get up," he hissed. "I believe you are sincere—no need to make a spectacle."

Gaius met his eyes and winked. "Not for you—for them," he muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

Caspian turned and saw awe on the faces of all his councillors—Trumpkin's most of all. Gaius had convinced them.

"So be it, then," Trumpkin said. "Shades and blades! Who would have thought it?"

"My house is at your service," Lord Azor said simply.

"I still cannot countenance such folly," Lord Mahal said stiffly. "As your councillor, I firmly oppose this, and will do everything in my power to stop this madness."

"Very well," Caspian said cheerfully. Somehow, Gaius's fealty meant more to him than even convincing the others to his way of thinking. Why had he ever worried about this stiff-necked lord? Caspian wasn't sure why he had ever stayed in Narnia to begin with, unless he thought there was more profit in staying than going.

"If you cannot, as councillor, agree with the rest, then you are relieved of your position," he continued, and before Lord Mahal knew what was happening, Caspian had replaced him with Drinian.

"And, my friend," he said, shaking Drinian's hand in congratulations on his new role, "I don't want you to think that we are going to stop with Cair Paravel. I intend to make Narnians seafarers again, as well, and I shall want you to captain my first ship. Agreed?"

Drinian's face split in as big a grin as anyone had ever seen on his face. "My pleasure, King Caspian."

In the back of his mind, Caspian thought he heard a low, pleased growl.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Almost done--only one short chapter left to wrap things up. My thanks to all of you who have been following this little tale, and especially those of you who have taken the time to review. Your thoughts and words have encouraged me tremendously!_


	7. Chapter 7

Caspian stood on the eastern shore of Narnia and breathed deeply of the clean, salty air. Behind him, Cair Paravel stood half rebuilt, scaffolding swarming with dwarfs, badgers, mice, and humans, while moles argued passionately with dryads on the ground over root encroachment into foundation stones.

"The work is proceeding well, my king," Dr. Cornelius said, stepping up beside the boy.

"What? Oh yes, yes it is," Caspian said, half distracted. He shook his head and looked back at the growing walls. "They're getting along well, all of them, aren't they?" he said fondly. "I appointed Celandine Head Housekeeper yesterday, you know, and this morning I heard her ferociously scolding Lord Azor for his work party's neglecting to build the pantries large enough."

Dr. Cornelius chuckled. "And how did the good lord take it?"

"With a grin and an apology," Caspian said. "Even three months ago, he wouldn't have borne having a Beast speak to him so, nor would Celandine have dared."

"So then, even before it is completely rebuilt, Cair Paravel is bringing us closer together," the doctor mused. "You have done well, Sire."

Caspian frowned. Before he could speak, however, he was interrupted by a glad shout. Drinian hove into view along the northern stretch of shore, his arms spread wide to display a shining new suit of mail.

"Look!" he called, his face split in an open grin. "Gaius just presented this to me!"

Caspian laughed. "What? Did he concede that you won the bet after all? That would be the outside of enough, after him forcing us to endure your cooking all the way back from here that journey."

Drinian shook his head. "No, he simply said that I had earned it."

"A high honour indeed," Dr. Cornelius said. "The dwarfs do not bestow their work on just anyone."

"They used to, though, didn't they?" Caspian asked, thinking back, as he so often did, to that encounter with Aslan in the treasure chamber (now firmly sealed over by a trusted group of builders and unknown to most of the other workers). "Did they used to work simply for the joy of it, and spread their gifts abroad?"

Dr. Cornelius seemed to sense the hidden question, and patted Caspian's shoulder. "Don't fret, my boy," he said softly. "Narnia will not always live under a cloud of suspicion and prejudice. You have made great strides already—don't give in to discouragement. Why, look you there!" He pointed, and Caspian had to smile at the sight of Reepicheep directing a group comprised of dwarfs and humans as they strained to shift a large boulder off the hill. The mouse's shrill voice echoed through the air, and even as Caspian watched one Black Dwarf muttered something (likely derogatory) to the human beside him, and they both broke into laughter.

"If they can join together enough to swear at Reep, I suppose they can overcome other boundaries too," he conceded.

"This is a great thing for Narnia," Drinian said. He tilted his head to look out over the sea. "Though I must confess that my heart yearns for the day when the castle is finished and we can begin building our fleet. I dream every night about sailing east, toward the Lion's country … truly dream, not just imagine. In my dreams, the ship is blurry, but she is green and gold and purple, and sometimes I see a dragon's head at her prow, and sometimes a white albatross, and sometimes a golden sun rises above her and I am blinded by its light."

Caspian was moved by the passion in his friend's voice. He patted Drinian's armoured shoulder. "Soon, my friend. I long for the sea, too."

Drinian ducked his head in embarrassment, unused to revealing so much of himself, and wended his way down the beach, leaving Caspian alone with his old tutor once more.

"You are still troubled, dear king," Dr. Cornelius said. "I can see it in your face. What worries you?"

"I've seen or heard nothing from Aslan since we began work on the Cair," Caspian said. "What if I'm wrong? He told me that as long as I worked from pure motives this was the right path, but what if my motives have somehow gotten muddied without me realizing it? I thought he would show up to bless our work …"

"My dear lad!" Dr. Cornelius said in surprise. "Have I taught you nothing? Don't you know that he is not a tame lion? He comes and goes at his pleasure, not ours. Surely you don't need his reassurance at every moment."

"Need? No," Caspian said. "Want? Very much indeed."

"Then I am here," spoke a rich voice from behind him, and Caspian and the doctor turned to see Aslan eclipsing their view of the Cair.

"My lord!" Dr. Cornelius gasped, sinking with some difficulty to his knees.

"Rise, my friend," Aslan said, "and leave me with our king for the moment. I will speak with the rest of you later."

Caspian had to extend a hand to help Dr. Cornelius to his feet, and the little old half-dwarf trotted off to hold off the tide of joyous creatures rushing to greet their Highest of all Kings.

Caspian bowed his head ruefully. "I am sorry for my doubts, Aslan," he said.

"Never apologize for seeking to do right," Aslan said. "Though a little applied wisdom might not come amiss at times." There was amusement in his voice, and Caspian did not feel chastised.

"Then—you are pleased, with what we are doing?"

"My son," Aslan said gravely, his heavy paw resting on Caspian's shoulder with all the weight of the kingdom behind it, "it is well."

And as they moved to welcome all those awaiting them, both Old and New Narnian, Caspian believed that it was very well, indeed.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **And so here we are at the end--or perhaps more properly, the beginning, as this marks the start of Caspian's reign from Cair Paravel, and a long ling of kings down to Tirian who rule Narnia according to Aslan's pleasure._

_I rarely bother with disclaimers anymore, because really, isn't the point of fanfiction that we who write it are _not_ the oroginal authors? Just in case anyone was confused, though, I am not CS Lewis, nor do I gain any profit but pure enjoyment from the writing of these stories._

_My thanks once more to all who read and especially those who review. I approach each trip into Narnia with trepidation, and your responses always ease my fears. And occasionally boost my ego. Which is nice too._


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